Thanksgiving weekend, eight of us family members spanning three generations packed into my Honda Pilot and headed down to the Bolivar Peninsula where I grew up. We were on a mission to visit Dad’s favorite restaurant down there, and remember him. It was a perfect autumn day to walk the beach and reminisce.
So of course, I wrote a simple little haiku:
back home at the beach
the day after thanksgiving
remembering Dad
When I looked at the pictures later, I saw each of us drifting in our separate thoughts:
that day at the beach
my son was looking forward ~
I was looking back
Somehow, Dad was there with each of us, in that place where we have so many memories of him. I know I can always find him when I look out to sea.
the salty air’s kiss
joins the sundancing-sparkles:
Dad’s eternal hug
For a look into what it was like to grow up along the beach on the Bolivar Peninsula, check out my days by the water. Dad really liked that poem, and I cherish his comment on the post.
Copyright 2017, Glover Gardens
I have never seen Boliver peninsula look so nice! You must have gone on a good day. 😀
Same here, Julie! Not a speck of seaweed, and the water, for the first time in memory, looked blue(ish). Maybe that was Dad’s reflection.
Maybe it was. We both know it’s definitely not normally blue! 😂